


Turning Over

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-04
Updated: 2003-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex is having a bad day. Clark has something to show him. Lex's day gets better. Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Over

## Turning Over

by DangerMouse

<http://users3.ev1.net/~scaliff42/purplefic>

* * *

Lex Luthor, championship fencer, graduate with honors, excellent pool shark, and overseer to many of the operations of one of the largest multi-national corporations in the world, poked the screen of his laptop. 

He poked it again. 

It didn't not react. 

"Work," he commanded the machinery. 

It obstinately continued not to do so. 

"Damn." Lex rubbed a hand over his eyes, resisting the urge to throw the seven-thousand-dollar paperweight posing as his laptop out the window. He was having a very bad day. "I'm going to put a hit out on Bill Gates," he muttered. 

"Don't do that." Lex glanced up at a cheerful, but harried looking Clark Kent strolled into his office. 

"Why not?" Lex asked. "It would make the world a better place. I am trying to be a better person, after all." 

"Because you wouldn't look good in an orange jumpsuit," Clark replied. Lex thought about it then shrugged. 

"I suppose not," Lex agreed, then tilted his head. "Maybe I could just have him hurt a little?" At a little headshake from Clark, Lex sighed. "Maybe not." 

"You look like you could use a break. Want to go for a drive?" Clark offered. 

Lex sighed again. "Sounds good to me." He stood up, flipping down the screen of his laptop. "Maybe this thing will work out its issues while we're gone." He took his keys out of his pocket, throwing them up in the air and catching them again. "Which car do you want to take?" 

"My truck, actually," Clark replied, giving his friend a mysterious smile. "I have to make a delivery to Mrs. Haversham on the way. Besides, there's something I want to show you." 

"Oh?" Lex raised a delicate eyebrow as Clark's smile grew. "Dare I ask what that is, exactly?" 

"You'll see," Clark said with a careless shrug. "It's a surprise. Come on." Lex shook his head in amusement as Clark turned on his heal and walked out of his office, the young billionaire having no choice but to follow, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

* * *

"Is this thing safe?" 

Clark glanced over at Lex, giving his friend a mild look. "Any car I drive has got to be safer than any car you drive." 

"Good point," Lex agreed, just barely kept his hand from gripping the side of the chair. The old truck jolted along the rough Smallville roads, smelling faintly of rotten vegetables and cows, the engine shaking and banging in a startling manner. A pothole in the road made the entire vehicle practically leap into the air and Lex felt himself fly off the seat, then bounce down again. The seatbelt, thankfully in good working order, cut into his shoulder, keeping him from hitting his head on the rusting ceiling. He grit his teeth. "Clark..." 

"Sorry about that," the teen replied sheepishly, though not looking very sorry at all. 

"How much longer until I get to see this surprise?" Lex asked. The truck was worrying him - didn't these trucks tend to roll over and catch on fire at the slightest provocation? Clark glanced down at the dashboard, the sixth time he'd done so in the past three minutes. It was making Lex nervous - was there some kind of warning light flashing? 

"Not long," Clark said. Lex couldn't help but think that it was too long already. What if he died in this truck? What would people say? It would be horribly embarrassing to be found dead in _any_ pickup truck, let alone one that could possibly have been made sometime during the Bronze Age. They drove on in silence for a few minutes, Lex not trusting his voice to speak without wavering, when Clark suddenly slammed on the brakes, Lex throwing his hand out onto the dashboard to keep himself from flying forward. 

"Clark!" Lex cried. 

"Hold on, hold on," came the unfocused reply. Clark continued to stare down at the dashboard, the car rolling down the road at snail's pace. "Come here," Clark said suddenly, reaching out an arm to wrap around Lex's shoulders, pulling him into a semi-hug. Lex gulped at the close contact, feeling a rush of heat run through his body, resisting the undignified urge to squirm away. 

"Clark, what are you..." 

"Just look, Lex," Clark said, nodding down at the dashboard. Lex looked down at what he considered antique dials and controls, blinking in confusion. 

"Clark, what am I looking at?" Lex asked. 

"The odometer," came Clark's short reply. Lex glanced through the dusty, dirty plastic, looking at the odometer that clearly read 99999(9). Very slowly, the last number rolled to zero, all the others following it in turn. Clark stopped the car and let out a hooting cheer. 

"A hundred-thousand miles," Lex said, surprised. "I'm amazed." 

"Actually, three-hundred-thousand," Clark said with a grin, taking his arm off of Lex's shoulder and reaching into his shirt pocket, pulling out a pocket knife. He flipped out the blade, then made a careful line next to two others already scratched into the old, cracking vinyl. From another pocket, he took out a disposable camera, taking a quick flash picture of the line of zeros. 

Lex looked sufficiently impressed. "I've never seen an odometer turn over before," he mused. 

"I know." Clark reached behind his seat and pulled out two cold bottles of coke, cracking the lids and handing one to Lex. He tapped his bottle against Lex's, then took a deep drink, Lex following suit, an amused glint in his eyes. Smacking his lips in satisfaction, Clark twisted the cap back on the bottle and put it between his legs, turning the key. The engine sputtered to life... then died. 

Clark tried it again. Nothing. 

"Uh..." 

Lex felt his lips twitching, trying very hard to keep from laughing. Clark was flushing the most intriguing red color, which perfectly matched his shirt. 

"Are we stuck here Clark?" Lex asked, his voice light with humor. If possible, Clark turned even redder, looking up at Lex from under long lashes, his head ducked in embarrassment. 

"We'll just give the engine a few minutes," he said nervously. "It does this sometimes." 

Lex just laughed and leaned back, taking another sip of his coke. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Clark," Lex told him, giving him a warm smile. Clark gave a weak smile in return, tapping his foot impatiently on the gas pedal. "It's something I'll never forget." 

"I'll bet," Clark mumbled. "I didn't really want it to turn out this way." 

"Trust me, Clark, when I tell you I would much rather be stuck out here with you and a truck that doesn't work than stuck alone in my office with a computer that doesn't work." 

"Thanks," Clark said, still embarrassed, but relaxing a little. 

Lex reached out a hand to pat Clark's consolingly, then left it there, smiling. Clark looked down at their hands, then echoed Lex's smile on his own face, leaning back against his seat. Lex was pleased. 

This wasn't turning out to be such a bad day after all. 


End file.
